Grace, Interrupted
by Bekki
Summary: When Sam was trapped on the Prometheus in ‘Grace’, there came an extremely unexpected visitor. SJ. Missing scene from ‘Grace’
1. Part 1

**Grace, Interrupted**

Summary: When Sam was trapped on the Prometheus in 'Grace', there came an extremely unexpected visitor. S/J. Missing scene from 'Grace'

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate. Alas, I wish I did!

A/N: This scene takes place just after Jack (or Sam's subconscious form of Jack) visits Sam on the Prometheus. This is a two part story, with no A/U. Please read and review!

**Grace, Interrupted-Chapter 1**

"One last thing," she said to Jack. A wave of emotion crashed through her imagination as she pictured her and her CO madly kissing. Her common sense chose that moment to take over. No need to open that can of worms.

"Never mind," she said and watched him leave. She shook her head in disbelief at what she had discovered about herself. It all made sense now. With a new found sense of purpose, she stood up, intending on making her way to the bridge. Unfortunately, her head injury chose that moment to rebel, and in her pain she slunk back down to the floor.

She heard approaching footsteps and grinned to herself.

"I thought you were going, sir," she said, recognising the swaggering rhythm of the feet against the floor.

She looked up, fully expecting to see a wink or smirk from the Colonel's face, but instead her eyes fell upon a much shorter teenage girl.

"Sorry," Sam said, bewildered. "I thought you were someone else."

The teenager scoffed and approached Sam, who was still heaped on the floor. "Funny that," she said sarcastically, "I don't think anyone has called me sir before."

"Sorry," Sam repeated, not really knowing what to say. This girl proved to be just as randomly placed as little Grace. She knew she had never seen the teen before, but there were certain likenesses, though to whom she had not yet deciphered.

"Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but who exactly are you?" she asked, a part of herself feeling as though she should know exactly who the girl was.

The girl scoffed again, this time rolling her eyes. "As if you don't know," she taunted, kneeling down in front of Sam. "Come on, think!" she said, the intonation in her voice, all too familiar.

The girl didn't move from in front of Sam. She was glad. It gave her ample opportunity to study the girl properly. She had lightly tanned skin and long black hair. On closer examination, Sam could see that her hair had not always been that colour. The teen had an inch or so of mousy coloured regrowth. Sam moved her gaze down the girl's face, noticing her cheek bones and small nose. If being with Daniel for so long had taught her nothing else, she had learned to view her surroundings with an inquisitive and critical eye. It was at that moment that her eyes came to rest on those of the teenager's. She had quite large eyes that had a brilliant blue hue to them. They were unusually bright and struck a chord in Sam's memory. She had seen these eyes before. They were her mother's eyes. And incidentally, her own.

She stood up in scepticism, gladly noting that the pain in her head had subsided somewhat. The teenager stood up with her in contempt, an all-knowing smirk still planted on her familiar face. Sam re-examined her face, sighing disapprovingly at her black locks and huffing with confusion over the girl's eyes. "Are you…" Sam began, not really knowing how it could possible, "Are you _me_?"

The teenager raised her eyebrows, contemplating the older woman's assumption. She did not speak, but continued to look at Sam with contempt.

"I don't know," Sam answered uncomfortably to the girl's unasked question. "You look a little bit like I did when I was a teenager, although I can tell you I never would have died my hair such a hideous colour." She realised she was rambling to herself and raised her hands as a gesture of apology, before coming to the conclusion that she must be going mad. She was mentally apologising for rambling to herself in the presence of someone who, whether or not she represented herself, was in essence, herself.

After a moment's silence in which Sam tried desperately to comprehend what she had just been thinking and whether it did in fact make any sense at all, the teenager coughed quite impolitely and brought Sam's attention back to reality…or whatever state it was that she was currently in.

"So," Sam said with trepidation, "Are you some teenage version of me?"

The girl let out a snort and shook her head. "Are you serious?" she asked. "For cryin' out loud, I thought you were smart!"

Sam was taken aback by the teenager's tone. It was brash and loud and, after a moment's consideration, very incriminatingly familiar.

"What did you just say?" asked Sam, her mind racing with the possibilities of what the girl's latest statement could imply.

"What? I though you were smart?" asked the girl.

"No no, before that. You said…"

"For crying' out loud?"

Sam nodded slowly, now recognising the girl's bewildered face and posture. They were trademarks of one certain Colonel. And that, mixed with the girl's complexion and eye colour could only mean one thing...

To be continued+

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first installment! Please review!


	2. Part 2

**Grace, Interrupted **

A/N: Thank you very much for all your kind reviews. Hope they continue!

Look out for **_Threads, Integrated_**, companion piece to **_Grace, Interrupted,_** which should be coming out soon

**From Part 1**

"What did you just say?" asked Sam, her mind racing with the possibilities of what the girl's latest statement could imply.

"What? I though you were smart?" asked the girl.

"No no, before that. You said…"

"For crying' out loud?"

Sam nodded slowly, now recognising the girl's bewildered face and posture. They were trademarks of one certain Colonel. And that, mixed with the girl's complexion and eye colour could only mean one thing.

**Part 2**

"Are you my daughter?" she asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

The girl gave her a very Jack-ish not of approval. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" she said, fixing her hair behind her ears. "It's Jess, by the way," she said holding out her hand for Sam to shake.

Sam didn't shake her hand. She just stared. How could this be true? Hadn't Jack just told her that they weren't really supposed to be together? They had just discussed the matter, minutes before. But she couldn't tear her eyes away, no matter how unlikely the scenario seemed to be. There, right in front of her was a quite attractive young lady who claimed to be her daughter. Her and her commanding officer's daughter. Or so she assumed.

"Your father?" she asked cautiously, aware of the fact that she could have incorrectly put together the evidence in front of her.

"What about him?" Jess asked, seeming to enjoy her mother's confusion all too much.

"He is…" Sam goaded, not wanting to incorrectly name her father, and not really wanting to correctly name him either.

"Fishing in Minnesota?" Jess replied, not sure why her mother felt the need to ask such a question.

Sam sighed. That was all the answer she needed.

"Wow," she said, more to herself than to the girl. "Jess?" she asked. It seemed an odd name, not one that she thought she would have named her child.

"Dad liked it," Jess answered, which caused Sam to smile a little. It did sound like the kind of name Jack would choose.

"What?" Jess asked tenaciously, after several more moments of silence from her mother.

"Nothing," Sam said, still staring at the girl. "So this is what my daughter will look like."

"Not at the rate you're going," Jess said, her voice returning to its previous brash tone.

"What?" Sam asked, hurrying to catch up with her daughter, who had started to retreat from the room.

"Come on," Jess said. "It's been what, seven years, and the only progress you've made is to 'keep it in the room'!"

"Excuse me?" Sam said, her voice clearly sounding offended at the girl's lack of consideration. She knew however, that it was Jess's accuracy more than her tone that offended her.

"Well," said the girl defensively, taking a small step back. "You'd think that if you wanted something that much that you might actually do something to get it!"

Sam let a small laugh escape her lips. "That's just it," she said. "I guess I don't really want it that much." She sat back down, suddenly feeling a lot weaker with that realisation. To think that the last seven years of her romantic life had been closed off to her because she _thought_ she loved someone. She suddenly felt quite sick in the stomach.

This time Jess didn't follow her to the floor. She crossed her arms and stared at Sam, the contempt in her face turning slowly to a disbelieving anger.

"You are so weak," she said, disappointedly.

"No," Sam said, not showing any emotion. "It's true. It all makes sense now."

"The hell it does!" Jess shouted, in a quality that would rival her father's. "Come on mom, don't be stupid!"

Sam shook her head earnestly. "No, it's true. It's all just been in my head. To stop me from getting hurt."

Jess jeered at her and took another step away. "I can't believe this. You actually bought that?"

"Jack told me," said Sam. "I told me," she corrected. "It makes sense. My subconscious was telling me what I already knew, deep down."

"Um, earth to Carter, your subconscious also told you that this gas heap was alive!"

"True," she said, shrugging. "Still, that theory hasn't been disproved either. I mean, Grace could be the…"

"Fine, then what am I? Aren't I your subconscious too?" she interrupted, appearing to be very tired of her mother's apparent lack of brains. Sam said nothing. In fact, that very thought had just occurred to her and had left her wondering what exactly her subconscious was trying to tell her at all.

"Look," said Jess. "You do this way too often."

"What?"

"Let me finish!" she yelled. "You make excuses. And don't tell me you don't" she said, as Sam had just opened her mouth to retort. "Let's see. First it was, 'I am happy'. Grandpa Jacob kindly shovelled that excuse away." Sam coughed uncomfortably. "You know he was right. But that left you vulnerable. So in came the second excuse. Regs. Now you got rid of that one yourself. I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised. But of course, once again, there was an ultimatum-which I must say you gave a very thorough and logical answer to," she said, disgustedly.

"So what's the problem?" Sam asked.

"It's not real!"

Sam shook her head. "Of course it's real. What I thought I felt was just all in my head. It explains why I have issues with other men. It's logical. It makes sense."

"But it isn't real!" Jess repeated. "Can you honestly tell me that it was all in your head? Every look, every touch was just a figment of your imagination? Go on; tell me you didn't feel a thing."

Sam opened her mouth to answer but no words came out. Not knowing exactly what to say, she bit her lip and looked back up to Jess.

"You've loved him for seven years. You've laughed with him, cried with him, almost died for him many times over. You can't tell me that it was all pretend."

Sam frowned. She had a point.

"Stop trying to logic everything out. Some things just happen for no reason, you know."

"Not to me, they don't," Sam said, although she knew that her daughter was speaking the truth.

"You don't need a reason to love him, Mom. You just do."

Sam nodded, still unable to give Jess an appropriate answer. She had nothing to say. Everything has been said already.

"Hang on," Sam said, after several minutes of silent thinking. "Why did Jack say all of that then? If both of you are my subconscious…"

"He got you thinking about it, didn't he?"

"True," Sam said, surprised at Jess's quick answer.

"Although, you were right about one thing."

"What?" asked Sam.

"You need to get out. You need to meet new people, see what a relationship is actually like."

"What?" asked Sam incredulously. "You just told me to stick with Colonel O'Neill!"

"No," said Jess, pacing slowly around the room, "I told you not to be stupid and reason things out when there's no need to."

"There's a difference?" Sam asked, her headache returning.

"You betcha. Listen, you can't live your life thinking what-ifs. You can't live seven years silently in love with a man, just to say one day, 'It's all in my head.' You have to know. So, you have to find out the truth."

Sam imagined herself trying to find out the truth. The vision consisted of her asking her co whether he loved her or not, only to be scorned and asked to be transferred.

"No," Jess answered. "That would be a stupid idea…just yet" she added. "You have to play the field a little. Then who knows, you might meet the man of your dreams and realise you don't need Dad in your life anymore."

"Really?"

"Sure. People do change, you know. Or you could date for a while only to find out that it _is_ him that you need. There's no downside. Either way you could be happy. And either way you'd know."

Sam took a deep breath. Her daughter was making perfect sense. The prospect however, was quite daunting. Samantha Carter had not been on the dating scene for years now, not properly anyhow.

"You're sure about this?"

"Would I lie?" she asked, with a trademark O'Neill grin. Sam laughed and her stomach filled with nervous butterflies.

"You're a smart kid," Sam said, with a strange sense of maternal pride.

"Well, I am your subconscious," Jess replied with a wink, before turning to exit the room.

"Wait!" yelled Sam. Jess turned around expectantly, waiting for her mother to continue. Sam smiled at her sheepishly. "I…just wanted to look at you again."

Jess smiled back at her. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. "Till we meet again, mom!"

"If…" Sam corrected, light-heartedly.

"Yeah," Jess said, grinning as though she doubted it greatly. "If."

Her form slowly dissolved back into nothingness and Sam was once again alone. She suddenly felt an enormous weight both lift from her shoulders and set on her heart at the same time. She finally had some form of closure and a direction in which to head, but losing her daughter, even though she knew she had never had her in the first place had a tearing effect on her heart and, combined with her incredible headache and fading consciousness left her very close to tears. Her moment of sullenness was dissolved however, when she heard a voice from the doorway.

"Cute kid," sounded the voice from the door. Sam smiled, recognising the voice, and looked up to see her commanding officer leaning against the wall, an uplifting grin on his face. What had once been butterflies in her stomach and anvils on her heart turned to pure butter as she noted the pride and love in his features.

"Yeah," said Sam, matching his proud grin. "Cute kid."

_Fin_


End file.
